


Snowmageddon

by mrs_d



Series: Tumblr Fics [13]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Snow Day, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 10:29:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9230876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_d/pseuds/mrs_d
Summary: “Has to be goddamned Armageddon out there before the university closes.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iwillnotbecaged](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillnotbecaged/gifts).



> Thanks, i-will-not-be-caged, who requested:
> 
> _Teacher!Sam doesn't want to get his hopes up for a snow day, but is pleasantly surprised when he actually gets one._
> 
> [(If you prompt me, I shall write....)](http://mrsdawnaway.tumblr.com/post/155510658539/friday-fic-prompts)

“Sam,” Steve whined from somewhere behind him, probably leaning in the office doorway. “Come on, it’s late.”

“I’m almost done,” Sam replied without looking up from the pathetic excuse for an essay that he was trying to grade.

“You said that two hours ago,” Steve reminded him.

“Well, I actually mean it this time.” Sam penciled a low grade onto the final page of the paper and rolled his shoulders. “Sorry,” he added, turning slightly. “I just have to have these done by morning.”

He heard the floorboards squeak, and a second later, Steve’s warm, heavy hands landed on his shoulders, squeezing just hard enough for Sam to notice the tension that had settled in his neck sometime in the last several hours. He winced, and Steve let go, ducking down to kiss his cheek like an apology.

“I know,” Steve murmured. His hands returned to Sam’s shoulders and started kneading much more gently. “But you need to sleep, too.”

Sam pushed aside the finished paper and pulled a new one from his dwindling pile of untouched essays. He was in the zone now, which was part of the reason he didn’t want to stop, even though it was almost three in the morning.

“I’ll be all right. Only five left,” he said out loud, both for Steve and for himself.

It was shit luck that had him working so late. He’d landed the earliest possible exam date and time, less than 48 hours after his final class of the semester, when all 50 of his students — even the ones who hadn’t been to class since October — handed in their final essays. And Sam, not wanting to be saddled with papers that would never be picked up from his office, had decided that he’d get them all done and return them at the exam.

“Won’t be long now,” Sam added. He tried to pat Steve’s hand, but he ended up stabbing him with the pencil instead.

Steve didn’t seem to mind — he had charcoal all over his hands more often than not anyway — and he kept rubbing, the touch becoming a pleasant almost-distraction as Sam started in on the next paper. On the edge of his hearing, he caught the sounds of Steve’s steady breath, the snores of Rufus, curled up in his bed on the floor, and the wind whistling at the back door down the hall. Around the fifth page of the essay, Sam realized that there was another sound: Steve was talking.

“Sorry, hon, what was that?”

“I said, you should at least look out the window before you kill yourself working so hard,” Steve said, with only the slightest trace of impatience.

“One sec,” Sam murmured. He finished reading, scrawled a number and some bullet points of feedback on the final page, and got to his feet. “What am I looking at?” he asked.

“Oh, you’ll see,” Steve assured him.

Sam stretched, his neck and shoulders crunching with movement, and crossed the room to the window. Steve went the opposite direction, switching off the light when Sam drew back the curtain. He squinted, unsure at first what he was supposed to be seeing, but then his eyes adjusted, and he knew what Steve was talking about.

The outside of the window was splattered with snow, large powdery chunks that were embedded into the screen, which shook periodically and let loose some dust that sparkled against the darkness. Small flakes were falling from the sky — or, they were trying to. The wind kept catching them, lifting them up into swirling patterns that got lost in the clouds of snow that blew off the roof. There had to be ten inches on the ground; when Sam had started marking, he could still see the tips of the grass poking out of the white stuff.

“I don’t think you’re going to work tomorrow,” Steve said, putting his arm around Sam’s waist.

“Wouldn’t that be nice,” Sam sighed. He extracted himself from Steve’s side and headed back to his desk. “Doubt it, though.”

“You don’t think they’ll close the school?”

Sam scoffed as he turned on the lamp and sat down again. “Has to be goddamned Armageddon out there before the university closes.”

“Well, they’re saying this is a pretty bad blizzard,” Steve argued.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Sam maintained.

Steve pursed his lips, but he didn’t say anything else, so Sam pulled another paper out of his pile and started reading. Steve stayed at the window a little longer, holding the curtain open to watch it snow and letting in a draft that actually woke Sam up a little. Finally, as Sam polished off the essay and started on the next one, Steve walked over and hugged him from behind.

“I’m asleep on my feet, Sam, I’ve got to go to bed.”

“Go ahead,” Sam told him, tilting his head so they were cheek to cheek. “I’m right behind you, baby.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice,” Steve said with an exaggerated sigh.

Sam laughed. “Go to bed.”

Steve kissed his neck and squeezed him tight for one more second before he let go. “Goodnight, Professor Wilson.”

“Goodnight, Starving Artist Rogers.”

Steve flipped him off — in a loving kind of way. “Come on, Rufus. Bed time,” he called, and the dog shuffled to his feet and followed.

A few minutes later, Sam heard the bedroom door close with its distinctive creak. He shivered unexpectedly, like knowing that Steve and Rufus were warm in bed without him made this drafty old house that much colder.

“Almost done,” he told himself. He cracked his knuckles, twirled his pencil once between his fingers, and got back to work.

* * *

When the alarm went off, Sam dragged himself to consciousness and the kitchen, where he made a cup of instant coffee. Only once it was half-gone did he feel somewhat human. He rubbed his dry, tired eyes and thought about what he had to do: enter the marks in the computer, make sure that his calculation of the average was correct, take another glance at the essays. Though — he glanced out the window — maybe he could do that while his students were writing the exam; he was going to need that time to dig the car out of the yard and drive across town to campus.

Rufus whined behind him. Sam set down his empty mug and headed for the back door. He unlocked it while yawning with his eyes closed, and shoved, but the door wouldn’t budge. He looked down in confusion, but it was another minute before he really took in what he was seeing.

A snow drift, at least two feet high, was keeping the screen door from opening.

“Holy shit,” he murmured.

Rufus whined in agreement.

“Okay, front yard,” Sam decided.

The roof over the porch meant that he could open the door at least, but Rufus looked damn uncertain about going out there. Sam couldn’t blame him; the snow was much more substantial than he’d thought from his quick look outside. It was taller than the porch, and everything beyond the front step was just a thick blanket of white. Sam couldn’t see where his yard ended and the street began, and their car was just a small bump.

He dried Rufus off when he ran back from peeing off the side of the porch, and headed straight to his office, mentally calculating the time it would take for him to clear the car and get to campus. At least double what he’d thought, he decided, turning on his laptop to pull up the grade spreadsheet.

A _ding-dong_ sound stopped him, and he peered at the corner of his screen to see a notification from his work email. Marked urgent. Sam sighed, annoyed at another interruption, and opened it.

_Due to inclement weather, the university is CLOSED today and all scheduled exams are CANCELLED until further notice._

Sam read it three times, then he pinched himself and read it again.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmured. “It’s Armageddon.”

* * *

“Told you you’d have a snow day,” Steve gloated, when Sam brought him breakfast in bed an hour later.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam replied, snagging one strawberry from the bowl on the tray.

“Mmm, I love _Steve-is-always-right_ pancakes,” Steve said with his mouth full.

Sam rolled his eyes. He sat down on the bed beside him and took a sip of his coffee. “Shut up and eat your breakfast. I’ve got more important things to do today.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

Sam leaned over, careful not to spill a drop of his precious coffee, and licked Steve’s ear in one quick stripe. “How about _Steve-is-always-right_ sex?”

Steve shivered as Sam pulled away, but his grin was cocky. “My favorite.”


End file.
